


The Heart Brings You Back

by lazarus_girl



Category: Faking It (TV 2014)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4141653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazarus_girl/pseuds/lazarus_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To maintain their status as Hester’s power couple, Karma and Amy go on a very planned, very fake date. As the night progresses, those plans unravel and things get a lot more real.</p><p>
  <i>“You’re never brave enough when it comes to Karma.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heart Brings You Back

**Author's Note:**

> Follows canon up until 1x07 and diverts thereafter. Based on [this](http://amy-raudenfeld.tumblr.com/post/85874048991/i-want-karma-and-amy-to-go-on-a-date-at-a-carnival) lovely (year old!) prompt by [amy-raudenfeld](http://amy-raudenfeld.tumblr.com) asking for Karmy to go on a date to a carnival, which led me to dub working drafts of this ‘Karmival.’ Catchy right? Title and inspiration is a twist on the Blues Traveler song ‘Hook.’ If you’re after some mood music, then take a listen to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wVCEodIv08k) live recording of a Gavioli Fair Organ (one of my numerous little obsessions), which I looped while working on this. I hope it’s as enjoyable to read as it was to write. I’ve never had something come together so easily before! Special mention to [@spasticandviolent](http://spasticandviolent.tumblr.com) / lysser8312 for managing to contain her feels long enough to read over this for me.

_“Love doesn't grow at a steady rate, but advances in surges,_  
_bolts, wild leaps, and this was one of those.”  
_ ― Ian McEwan, _Sweet Tooth._

***

A date Karma said. She said this was going to be a date. A proper date, that people who are actually dating have. Doing things as a couple. Together. What she neglected to say, however, was that the date would be for the sole purpose of impressing everyone else, and proving ‘Karmy’ were back on track as Hester’s power couple in full view of most of the school and hundreds of other people. She also neglected to tell you that she’d bail after an hour and a half because Liam _fucking_ Booker showed up and ruined everything. Liam showing up and ruining everything is a great shorthand for your life right now. If only you could wind back the clock and talk Karma down from it, like you did with that tattoo or the nose stud right before school started because Karma was convinced you weren’t ‘edgy’ enough to be interesting.

Right now, you’d take a tattoo; at least you can hide a tattoo. This? There’s no opportunity to hide. Everyone’s eyes are on you 24/7. It means you have to put on an Oscar-winning performance every day of your life. Except, you’re not sure what the performance is anymore. Not so long ago, you would’ve said that starring role was playing at being Karma’s girlfriend, but now, it feels like you’re playing at being her best friend instead. It’s different now, when you’re alone in each other’s rooms there’s this weird _energy_ between you and you don’t know when it appeared, but you’d really like it to disappear, because it keeps getting stronger and stronger.

Maybe Shane wasn’t so far off with this “lesbian energy” thing after all.

Whatever, lesbian energy or no lesbian energy it doesn’t really matter, because Karma’s gone, and you’re sat on a hay bail, looking pathetic with only a giant stuffed panda for company, regretting your latest questionable life choice: saying “yes” to Karma’s date idea when every _cell_ in your body was screaming “no.” You’re miserable, and it’s nothing to do with the sugar crash from eating too much cotton candy. It’s everything to do with the fact you knew this would happen from the second Shane said Liam “might” come. Worse still, you can’t even bitch about it because, as it turns out, giant stuffed pandas don’t make great conversationalists, and Shane left you ten minutes ago when that Pablo guy he’s obsessed with finally showed up with his perfect hair and toothpaste commercial smile. All Shane did before that was sulk and check his phone, not offering any of his usual – mostly unhelpful and wildly inaccurate – advice, so his absence is pretty much an improvement.

You had an out. You were free from being Karma’s second choice and second thought in all things after Liam somehow leapfrogged into the highest spot in Karma’s affections. But then, she had to go and apologise in front of the whole school, all earnest and teary and _Jesus_ if it didn’t break your heart. Briefly, it was over. This whole faking it mess and the resulting clusterfuck of emotional wrongness was over. But, you weren’t relieved. Not even a little, because if you didn’t have Karma in your life like that, it’s quite probable you wouldn’t have her at all, and you don’t know how you’ll ever cope like that.

You tell yourself that’s why you ran to her, let her say her ‘sorrys’ and brush away your tears. She knows you too well, and now you feel like all that knowledge is slowly being used against you, consciously or not. Sometimes you wish you weren’t so easily pacified, but then you remember what it’s like to be around her when she switches off and stops thinking about what she should be doing, and goes back to being the person you’ve grown up with and shared everything with, who means everything to you and you’d do anything to make her happy.

That’s why you ran to her, and that’s why you’re still here, in spite of everything: Karma’s happiness. Even if that happiness comes at the expense of your own.

For an hour and a half, it was perfect. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a long time. You got your best friend back, and _God_ have you missed her. Karma was Karma again, and all the weirdness of the past few weeks with this faking it _bullshit_ and whatever the _hell_ happened a few days ago in that car crash of an aborted threesome. You should probably start asking more questions, setting up the most basic of boundaries because this whole fake girlfriends thing is feeling, well … decidedly less fake. Asking questions requires you to talk, and Karma doesn’t seem to want to talk about anything right now, particularly not what did (or didn’t) happen at the threesome.

Even if she did decide to be honest with you and share what she’s been feeling, you’re not sure you can hear it.

***

You’ve been coming to this carnival every year since you were little girls, and it never gets old. Not the rides and the ridiculously overpriced food that’s the best banquet of all the salty and sweet things you love, or the music and the lights, and the people. You both love it here. Everything feels exciting and magical, like you’re on another planet instead of in the real world. You probably should’ve grown out of it when you started to come here without your parents in middle school, but it’s tradition now, and for everything that’s changing about your life, you want some things to stay the same. This loud, crazy, wonderful place is something you want to keep hold of in the midst of the chaos that passes for the rest of your life.

So, you let go. You stopped worrying about everyone from school and the thousands of texts zipping their way through the ether, and decided to focus on having a good time with Shane and Karma. You let yourself imagine it was date, and paid for almost everything even though Shane would technically be gatecrashing. Whatever was going on outside the fairground didn’t matter.

Karma was in her element. She held your hand, and fed you cotton candy, walking around in your favourite jacket after she complained about the nighttime chill. She played the ever-dutiful girlfriend while Shane played third wheel – happily for once, even seeming as if he actually _liked_ Karma – declaring how “cute” you both were at every possible opportunity, practically bursting with excitement because he scored himself a front row seat for the latest installment of The Karmy Show. Except there were moments; real, beautiful moments when it didn’t feel like a show at all. When it felt as natural to be with her as breathing. Like when she clung to you, screaming on the ghost train. Like when she got all fiercely protective of you when you drove her around in the bumper cars and Shane was chasing you down. Like her laughter when all three of you went on the little kids carousel and took selfies while Shane told stupid jokes. Like the way her whole face lit up in the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen when you got a perfect score on the shooting gallery, and won a prize for her.

Of course, she was all giddy and adorably excited, so she didn’t really think, and ended up picking the most ridiculous toy on the wall. The panda that you ended up carrying in the name of chivalry for the rest of the evening, but it didn’t matter, you didn’t _care_. You didn’t care because as soon as the guy took it down and gave it to her, she leaned over and kissed you on the cheek, whispering “you’re the best,” before taking your hand in hers, fingers interlacing with ease, and dragging you off to watch Shane try and beat some guy from the football team on the test your strength machine. Shane didn’t win, but for a while, it felt like you’d won. You’d won more than a prize in a stupid carnival game, you’d won _her_.

It didn’t last. It didn’t last because ten minutes later, with the panda wedged between you, still drunk on happiness while you shared soda and popcorn, Liam came into view; all smiles, waving over at you both as he stood near the photobooth. You felt the air change. You felt Karma change. The spell was broken. Karma looked at you, pleading silently, and of course, you let her go, because you always do. You don’t have any claims. Not really. Deep down, you know you’re not crazy, that it isn’t all in your head. Shane was there for most of it, you have a witness. But right now, when Karma is off having fun with Liam, and all you have is this panda, a bunch of used up game tickets and a strip of photos from that very same booth, with you both pulling stupid faces, posing and grinning ridiculously for the camera, it feels like a poor consolation prize. You wanted to kiss her then, hidden in that booth, away from everything, but you weren’t brave enough. You’re never brave enough when it comes to Karma.

Feelings or no feelings. Kisses or no kisses, you’re the warm-up act for the main event.

***

“Hello, Earth to Amy?” you hear Lauren say, snapping her fingers right in front of your face.

You didn’t even notice she’d sat down, you were far too busy staring at the photobooth pictures; drawn to the one at the end of the strip when you and Karma look like you’re seconds from kissing. You’ve done stupid poses like that before, but it looks different this time. Probably because it felt different, even if you can’t or won’t give that feeling a name.

“What’s with you anyway?” she asks, between bites of cotton candy. “You and the panda here having a little gay pity party?” she adds with a laugh, jabbing her index finger at the panda’s belly. “Until Liam showed, you and Karma looked nauseatingly happy. What gives?”

“I’m really not in the mood, Lauren,” you reply, eyes narrowing at her and shoving the pictures back into your pocket. You don’t want them used as a tool for ridicule.

Usually, you like the back-and-forth trading of insults because Lauren is one of few people who can give as good as they get, but tonight, you just want to be left alone with your own misery.

“Fine,” she shrugs, pulling off a long piece of cotton candy and eating it. “Be like that.”

You glare, reaching to set the panda right again when he starts to slump. Lauren already knows the answer to everything she’s asked. She’s heard too much of your plotting with Karma to keep this faking it charade going not to know. She’s also heard too much of you not-so-quietly crying yourself to sleep over the very same thing, but that’s something else you don’t really like to talk about.

And people wonder why you don’t talk much. Silence is less incriminating.

“Please tell me you didn’t pay to win her that _thing_ ,” she continues, not waiting for you to elaborate.

“I did,” you sigh, long and heavy, reaching into your jeans pocket to show her all the game tickets as proof. “And don’t insult the panda. I know it’s ugly as hell, but Karma likes it so just deal with it. She wanted something as a souvenir.”

“For a second, I thought you were going to say ‘token of love,’ I know Karma’s all about that. Weird isn’t it? That she’s so materialistic.”

“Don’t you dare,” you glare at her. She’s lucky the panda’s in the way. If she carries on talking shit like that she’s going to get punched in the face. It’s not like she’d be undeserving. “You don’t know Karma, so don’t act like you do.”

“Oh, you’ve got it so bad,” she comments, with a laugh. “Karma’s got you wrapped around her little finger, and when she gets bored of you, she skips off to Liam. It’s perfect really. She’s pretty smart. I’m almost jealous.”

Lauren’s right, as ever, and you hate it. Karma gets everything she wants out of this fucked up little triangle. She gets your attention, she gets Liam’s attention, she gets everyone else’s attention, and she’s finally the popular girl she’s always fantasised about being. What do you get? You get loneliness and boredom, in between waiting for your next dose of Karma’s affection. You’re getting addicted, you’re sure. It’s not healthy.

“Shut up, you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!” you snap, immediately regretting it.

“I think I do,” she replies, looking at you pointedly. “Look, it only bothered me when I thought you guys were faking, but you’re clearly not so –”

“Who says?” you exclaim, anger surging up out of nowhere. “She’s my best friend, it’s not OK to care about your best friend now?”

Care. You do so much more than care. Some might call it love, but it’s not that either. Love is something that people declare too quickly, misuse and give away so freely that you can’t believe what they feel and what you feel – filling up your heart to the point it’s painful – is the same emotion.

“ _Amy_.”

“Fine, whatever, you win,” you concede, huffily. “I might not be faking. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” she replies, deadpan, offering the remaining cotton like some weird olive-branch peace offering.

“Anything else you want to get out of me or are you all done?” you ask. It sounds sadder and much less snarky than you intended. “Just do me a favour and warn me before you decide to share with everyone else.”

Only you could be afraid of being outed when you’ve already been fake outed. Twice. The only way it could be worse is if you confessed your love for Karma and they transmitted it on the Jumbotron in Times Square.

“There’s nothing to tell,” she says, looking at you in this conspiratorial way. Something is different between you and you’re not sure what. For once, you feel like she’s not seconds away from stabbing you. “You’re in love with your girlfriend! Groundbreaking!”

You glance over at her, smiling a little, and break off some of the cotton candy. You think it might be kind of like signing something in blood. It’s a dangerous alliance and you both know it, but you kind of need her right now, and your mom is always going on about how you and Lauren need to get along. Isn’t this what sisters are meant to do? But maybe you’ve watched too many episodes of _Pretty Little Liars_ to have an accurate idea of what friendship or sisterhood is actually like.

“But,” Lauren whispers, pausing when a group of girls from your school pass by, “you might want to look a little happier about it.”

“I would, if she were actually here, but she’s too busy trying to be someone else’s girlfriend.”

For a split-second, she looks at you with a mixture of sadness and fondness in her eyes. You don’t know whether you like that she’s taken to pitying you, it means everything you’re feeling is visible, despite your attempts to stamp out and swallow down every burst of feeling. There’s not much space left to contain them all.

“I might be able to help you with that,” she offers, extending the cotton candy again.

This time, you reach for what’s left of the giant soda you and Karma were sharing.

“How?” you ask, but it sounds more like ‘what’s in it for you?’ and you feel vaguely embarrassed that you still don’t quite trust her.

“Well,” she begins looking over at the shooting gallery. “I need some man candy to make Tommy jealous,” she says, and you follow her eye line, seeing Tommy draped all over some girl. Now, Lauren’s approach makes sense. “And you, you need –”

“Therapy?” you cut in, finishing for her.

“Cute,” she replies, a small peal of laughter escaping her. “No, I think we all know what you need, or rather _whom_ ,” she declares, standing up and fixing her hair. “I’ll take Liam off Karma’s hands for you. It’s a win-win.”

“Why?” you blurt out.

“I’m feeling in a charitable mood,” she says, trying for noncommittal. “Where did they go?”

“The bounce house I think?” you reply, sighing again. Secretly, that’s always been your favourite part of this, even if you’re too big for it now. You get strange satisfaction from booting little kids off and hogging it all to yourselves.

“Really?” she replies, barely able to hide her contempt. “God, is he twelve? At least you pulled out all the date stops. Boys are effing lazy!”

At that, you really do laugh, watching her shake out her hair again and straighten her dress before her striding off in Liam and Karma’s vague direction.

“Hey,” she calls to you after a moment, turning on her heels and pointing at you. “Don’t think I won’t cash this sisterly favour in at a later date, Raudenfeld! I’m taking one for the team here!”

Sister. It makes you smile, and you both acknowledge the moment. You nod, and mouth a ‘thank you’ at her and she waves you away dismissively. She’s actually a lot nicer once you get to know her. Your mom always said her bark was worse than her bite and that it would just take time for you to warm up to each other. It feels like the temperature has risen by a few degrees and things are starting to thaw, at least.

It’s kind of amazing to see the switch between the Lauren you’re coming to know, and Lauren Cooper, that steely-eyed five feet nothing immaculate mix of bitchiness and terror that everyone loves to hate, happen right in front of your eyes. Except, you’re realising that there’s a lot about her _not_ to hate. For once, Karma was right, and it’s nice to be proven wrong about someone. Karma’s a lot like Lauren; the makeup and the immaculate hair are her armour, protecting herself from the rest of the world. Only you get to see the other side of her. You get the privilege of Karma instead of Karma Ashcroft. There’s a difference. It gets bigger and bigger everyday, and you hope that you don’t wake up one day to find that Karma’s gone forever.

***

You’re debating striking up an actual conversation with the panda because Lauren left forever ago and there’s no sign of Karma, Liam, or even Shane and Pablo. Oliver passed you with some of the other guys from the AV club a few minutes ago and he looked like he wanted to hang out, but you sidled up closer to the panda and did your best “don’t talk to me” glare, and he disappeared too. Then, you see a very familiar pair of shoes. Oxfords. Karma’s favourite, most expensive pair. You’re not going to give in and speak first, even if it kills you; that lets her off the hook way too easily, and you’re getting tired of doing it.

“I’m the worst!” Karma declares dramatically. Before you realise, she’s moving the panda with a “Sorry bud, I need to talk to Amy,” and sitting in the space left behind so you’re forced to be near her. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

You shrug, staring at your sneakers. It hurt, it really hurt to be left like that, and yes it makes you petty, and pathetic and juvenile, but you don’t care, it’s true. You hate that being within sight of Liam brings out this irrational rage that makes you want to knock his block off or strangle him for taking Karma away from you, but not as much as you hate Karma – and you do sometimes – for being so easily led.

“Aims,” Karma says in that soft, sweet voice that other people rarely get to hear. “Don’t be like that,” she pleads, her hand placed softly on your knee. The urge to shirk it and move off the bale is ridiculously strong. “I don’t want the night to end with us fighting or worse, not talking at all.”

“You suck,” you declare, petulantly, not daring to glance over at her, because you know exactly what kind of face she’s doing, all puppy dog eyes and pouty lips, and you’re disgustingly susceptible to their powers.

“I know,” she continues, in the same soft tone. “I was an idiot, I ruined everything. I really am sorry. When I imagined tonight, I thought it was all going to be about Liam, but in the end, I had so much more fun with you. I always do.”

That gets you to look up, because she sounds so sincere. She rarely admits when she’s fucked up, much less apologising for it repeatedly. There’s an unwritten law between you both, that you’ll stand a certain number of screw-ups before the limit is reached and apologies are in order. You guess she figures she’s used up all those up long ago. She has. You’re just incapable of not forgiving her, and it takes you far too long to call her out on her shit when she’s pushing things too far. A more sensible person would’ve slammed the breaks on this after the threesome, but no, you let this car crash roll along some more. You’d slap yourself stupid if you could.

“Forgive me?”

“As if I could do anything else,” you say, in a strange, weary singsong. “You might be an idiot, but you’re my idiot, OK?” you continue, placing your hand over hers.

She looks at you with the same sad eyes Lauren did, and suddenly you feel like crying and you don’t know why. You definitely don’t want to do it now, so you look up at the sky instead, ridiculously clear and full of stars, and that’s somehow worth crying over too.

“Yeah, I can thank Lauren for helping me see just how much of an idiot I am.”

You swallow hard, trying not to react in the same melodramatic way you did when Lauren dared to suggest you might have feelings for Karma.

“Sometimes I get so wrapped up in myself and what I want, that I miss how much I’m hurting you.”

This time, her eyes are the ones starting to glisten with unshed tears. It’s crazy how quickly things can shift, how she breaks down your defences and softens you. Then, she’s pulling you into a hug for no real reason, squeezing tight. You want to ask her what she knows and what she doesn’t know, what Lauren did or didn’t say, but you can’t ask those things, not now, not yet. She pulls back and you’re just _looking_ at each other, not saying anything and it feels exactly like the threesome all over again. Where the world stops turning and your brain stops thinking, and all you can hear is your heart, thudding hard in your chest, the carnival organ music turning warped and strange. Her eyes dart between your eyes and your lips, and her grip on your shoulders tightens. She’s going to kiss you, you know it, and you’re not sure you’re strong enough to stop her, or even if you want to.

***

There’s sudden weight on the opposite end of the bale and it makes you both start.

“You ate all the cotton candy!” Shane whines, completely oblivious to what he’s interrupting. “I need sugar, I need consoling!” he continues pulling the last tiny remnants of what Lauren left behind.

When he finally realises what’s happening – at around the same time he registers your patented death glare, he holds up his hands, sheepish, mouthing a “sorry” at you.

“What happened?” Karma asks, flustered, running a hand through her hair, clearly wanting to change the focus of everyone’s attention.

Shane looks surprised enough for you both. “Pablo happened,” he pouts, moving closer. He smells like he’s bathed in Pablo’s cologne, and his hair isn’t quite as neat as it was before. “Or didn’t. He keeps blowing hot and cold on me, I’m over it.”

“So says the king of playing hard to get!” you joke, shoving him playfully.

“There’s an art to romancing, and I am a master at it. He’s proving annoyingly resistant to my advances.”

“There’s a name for that, Shane,” Karma replies, with a wry smile.

“Nice!” you manage, in the middle of a laughter fit, accidentally grabbing her hand to stop yourself from falling backwards. She’s clinging on just as tight.

He makes a face and flips her off. You’re not sure when this happened, but he seems to have called off his weird hatred of Karma, and you’re dying to know why, but you can’t ask that either.

“Love you too, Harvey,” she says, matching him.

“Speaking of love,” Shane begins in the least subtle way ever, shifting closer to you both. “How are my two favourite little lovebirds?”

If you didn’t want to kill him for interrupting before, you do now. He’s doing it for effect, because he’s one of the few people who knows the truth about all of this, but you’re not sure his matchmaking is entirely helpful right now. You stare at him, wide-eyed, mouthing a very pointed “what the fuck?” at him. What planet is he on?

“We lovebirds,” Karma answers, moving your joined hands into her lap, “are on the best date ever, actually.”

Well, the last thing you expected her to say was _that_. Ignoring the whole awkward interlude of sad misery, she’s right. Unfortunately, Shane witnessed some of that interlude, so he has to know she’s not telling the whole truth.

“Better than you and Pablo, obviously!” you comment with a smirk, jumping in to fill the silence.

Karma lets go of your hand, and moves a little away. It was the wrong move. But, there’s no right thing to say here, everything means too much, and you can see Shane trying to figure you out. Even though you’re not looking at Karma, you know she’s doing the same thing.

“Ouch!” he exclaims, clutching at his chest. “That was uncalled for. I’m going to sit here with fluffy Chairman Mao where I’m not being ridiculed,” he continues, pulling the panda towards him in a one-armed hug. “We’re fine here, aren’t we?” he says, addressing the panda.

“Actually,” Karma corrects, “his name is Jacob.”

“Who calls a panda Jacob?!” he asks, letting out a huge roar of laughter.

“I do!” Karma says, pouting in a way that’s irritating as hell on Shane but horrendously cute on her. It immediately makes you leap to her defence.

“Fuck you, she can call it what she wants,” you lean across, shoving him so hard he and Jacob both fall off the bale.

“Owww!” Shane wails, rubbing the back of his head. “God, you’re so violent!”

“Ugh,” you groan, holding out a hand for him to take. “I barely touched you. Don’t be such a fucking baby!”

Then, Shane winks at you, the most exaggerated wink in existence, and you realise, belatedly, he’s doing this on purpose, giving you and Karma alone time. Other than that, you’ve got no idea where this is going, but you’re ninety-nine percent certain you’ll hate him afterwards, and you’re wondering how the hell you’ll survive at school if you manage to fuck up a pre-planned date so spectacularly that both he and Karma stop talking to you.

“You two just go off in your wonderful love bubble, Jacob and I are fine!” he continues, melodramatically.

Karma snatches Jacob back, glaring at Shane before brushing the hay off the toy like he’s suddenly their adopted child.

“We don’t need a ride on the ferris wheel do we?” he sighs, turning his attention to Jacob again when Karma sets him back down. “No, no, we’ll be fine all on our own.”

“She’s afraid of heights, idiot!” you remind him before turning to her and saying, “You don’t have to go on it, hon, it’s cool.”

Hon. It takes you a few seconds to realise what you just said. You can practically feel Shane grinning.

“It is the only ride we haven’t been on,” Karma deflects, but there’s a brief flash of confusion on her face that she’s not quick enough to hide.

“It could also be the perfect moment to show everyone Hester’s favourite couple is back on track, right?” he suggests, throwing an arm around Jacob again as if the panda is somehow involved.

“But you love it, and it’s no fun alone,” she says, in the same soft voice as before. The voice that’ll talk you into just about anything. “I’ll be fine if you’re with me,” she adds, smiling a little, and it feels like your whole body melts into nothing. “Honest.”

“OK, if you’re sure,” you hear yourself saying, and get Karma’s bright, brilliant ‘I love you Amy’ smile in return.

“Totally sure,” she nods, “it’s what ten, fifteen minutes of my life? No biggie.”

“See, the lady’s fine!” Shane declares, with that ridiculous smile still on his face. “I do love grand displays of affection!” he continues, almost wistful.

Karma seems to take it as a challenge. Before you can even try and argue, she’s going off toward the guy punching tickets and setting up for the next ride.

“Wait, what? Karma!” you call out, but she just shakes her head, holding out her hand for you to take.

“Come on, babe, it’s filling up,” she yells back, singsong.

Babe. _Babe_? Did she really just say that out loud? Any second now, you’ll wake up and this will all have been some weird dream.

“What the fuck are you doing? Go to her!” Shane exclaims, shooing you forward. “What do you want, a written invitation? This is your moment, Amy. I can feel it!”

“OK …” you get up at last, nodding at him stupefied. “OK. I can do this right?” you say, mostly to yourself, with no real idea of what you’re psyching yourself up for.

“Go get your girl,” he whispers, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Sometimes you gotta woman up and take a risk, sweetie.”

She’s on the ride already, looking petrified, motioning for you to come with one hand and holding on to rail for dear life with the other. It’s enough to make you run to her, smiling apologetically at the guy running the ride, who does nothing but smirk and pop his gum like he has all night.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you call sweetly, sliding into the seat before the ride sets off. The relief on her face is palpable. “Couldn’t let you do this alone, could I?”

Shane’s right. This is your chance to see if everything’s all in your head or if Karma feels something too. She came back to you. She ditched Liam ‘teenage dream’ Booker for you. That has to mean something. Doesn’t it?

***

Whatever feeling you had in your left hand was gone ten seconds after Karma first grabbed hold of it. Karma’s pale, deathly pale, shaking, and her eyes are screwed tight shut. You haven’t been up here long, but you know it feels ten times longer for her. All your crappy distraction jokes about Shane and Jacob looking like ants have fallen flat. This was a very bad idea.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck!” she murmurs, mostly to herself.

“Karm,” you say, leaning over and whispering in her ear. “Open your eyes you’re missing everything. It’s so pretty.”

“You’re making it rock, sit still!” she replies, with this horrendous little screech that makes your chest hurt. “Please sit still!”

You try not to move so much, but it’s kind of hard, everything you do makes the seat move, and you’re not all that high yet.

“It’s fine,” you assure. “You’re fine,” you continue, manoeuvring your hand out of Karma’s death grip to put your arm around her shoulders instead. It’s a risk, and she panics, scrambling around for your other hand, until you let her take it. You’re more worried about keeping her safe and calming her down right now. It never fails to soothe her.

“I’m here,” you continue, saying it softer and softer as you play slowly with the ends of her hair. “I’ve got you.”

You’re probably talking too quietly, and the noise of the crowds, the rides and the music are likely drowning you out, but you don’t care. She’s starting to relax, her breathing is evening out, and the colour’s started to return to her cheeks. She’s coached you through long nights like this, on school trips and camps when people made fun of you for wanting to sleep with the lights on or when you couldn’t suffer the embarrassment of nightlights anymore and had to lie in the dark, terrified, clinging to Karma until you fell asleep or the room got light, whichever came first.

Eventually, her eyes flutter grudgingly open.

“Oh my God, it’s really _fucking_ high!” she says, in this high, shaky voice, nestling tight against you.

“But look up,” you reply, softly. “Look at the stars, Karm.”

It takes a few seconds for her to brave it, but when she does, you’re so incredibly proud of her. In the grand scheme of things, you know it’s not a big deal, but to her, it’s huge.

“It’s … it’s beautiful,” she says, overwhelmed. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” you say, sighing deeply and letting yourself look at her, openly, unabashed, while she’s looking away at the sky. “Yeah it is.”

You can’t take your eyes off her.

She’s beautiful too. So incredibly beautiful, and you want to tell her that, because she’s never ever believed it before. If you’re not careful you’re going to have one of those weird crying moments again and you don’t have a fear of heights to explain it on, and it’s not likely there’s suddenly going to be a mass power cut anytime soon. At that precise moment, the ride reaches its peak and stops, and it’s then you realise it. t finally dawns on you, descending from on high like a tonne of bricks: you, Amy Raudenfeld, love Karma Ashcroft. No, you don’t just love her, you’ve always done that, but you’re in love with her. Completely and hopelessly. You love her so much you feel like writing it in the sky or screaming it from the rooftops while simultaneously feeling completely and utterly paralysed by the fear of it all.

“Do something,” she says, hurriedly, her own panic seeping back into her voice.

“Huh?” you blink, shaking it off, remembering where you are and how this might not be some lovely magical moment for Karma now that the wheel has stopped.

“To take my mind off how very. Very. High. We. Are,” she replies, speaking slowly, taking long breaths to try and calm herself.

You nod, not sure of what to do at all, stalling for time. Then, you remember what Shane said about taking risks. So, you take the biggest risk of them all. You tilt your head down, close the distance between you, and kiss her; soft, curious little pecks. She’s stiff in your arms for a second, shocked, but she lets out a little whimper and relaxes, pressing you right into the seat and kissing back.

“Better?” you ask, breathlessly as you pull away reluctantly, surprised.

“Better,” she nods, echoing you, and her smile is luminous. “So much better,” she adds, with a sigh, gazing at you intently. “Kiss me again,” she says, pressing her hand flat against your chest.

You wonder if she can feel how fast your heart is beating. It feels like it might burst right out of your chest any second. At least she’s close enough to catch it.

For a moment, you’re sure you’ve stopped breathing, because then, she turns and looks at you, in this awed way she never has before.

“What?” you blurt out, stupidly.

“Kiss me again,” she repeats, leaning up for it. “Kiss me like you mean it." She lets go of your hand, reaching up to cradle your face, and continues, in a low, gentle voice, “I know you mean it.”

The way she says it sounds a lot like ‘I know you’re in love with me.’

This time, she’s the one kissing you, light and careful, like she’s afraid you’ll disappear or that she might be breaking you; not knowing she already has in so many ways. Each time, she gets a little braver, holding longer, kissing harder until you exhale a long, slow breath, and let yourself kiss her back, slow and hesitant at first, until you feel her smiling against your lips, and you pull her closer, deepening it and letting go completely. You don’t notice when the ride starts moving again, because you’re still kissing her, in this lazy and languid way that’s really too much in public, but you can’t find it in yourself to hold back anymore and Karma doesn’t seem to want to either.

The ride will stop eventually, and you’ll get off, flushed and giddy and breathless. Shane will freak out and tease you; everyone will be watching your every move forever; you’ll have to suffer Liam brooding and glowering at you for taking Karma away; and you’ll probably get reamed out for breaking your curfew. Again. But, you don’t care, you’ll deal with it. Karma’s kissing you. Karma’s kissing you and it’s so incredibly real: smell her perfume, feel the warmth of her mouth, taste her kind of real, and you’re not about to trade this for anything. Real is so much better than fake. Doing what you want is so much better than doing what you should. Following your heart beats following your head.

For once in your life, you took a risk, and it paid off.

A date Karma said. She said this was going to be a date. A proper date, that people who are actually dating have. Doing things as a couple. Together. What she couldn’t have known while she was busy planning everything down to the letter – wondering how to make time for you and Liam – was that in the end, the date would be nothing like those plans. Instead, it turned out to be everything you’ve both ever wanted, unfolding when you least expected it, not knowing what’s been in front of you this whole time.


End file.
